


Acclimatising

by fairytale_bliss



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 18:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytale_bliss/pseuds/fairytale_bliss
Summary: Anna and John have finally been afforded the time to get used to each other.





	Acclimatising

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Originally written in September 2012.

_ Acclimatising _

There was something rather beautiful about the peace that accompanied the aftermath of exertion. Anna reclined leisurely against her husband’s body, eyes half-closed in satisfaction. Her blonde hair, neatly braided not so very long ago, now cascaded down around her, thoroughly mussed by worshipping hands. John’s arm was around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side. Anna turned her head slightly so that she could study his face without moving any further. She was too comfortable for that.

She couldn’t stop the slow and decidedly unladylike smirk from crawling across her face at the sight of him. John Bates looked every bit as fulfilled as she felt. It was a look that suited him, she decided then and there. It was a look that suited him very much indeed. His spare arm was pillowed behind his head, completely casually—something that Anna would not normally associate with her stoic husband. His eyes were closed as he basked in a most pleasing afterglow. He had abandoned the quilt that she was sprawled under, still too warm to be chilled. Instead, he lay beside her completely naked. Anna wasn’t going to complain. Not in the slightest. She was very content to let her gaze sweep over his entire body, lingering licentiously when it reached the part of him that she had been denied for so long.

“Anna, you’re staring.”

His voice took her by surprise, low and raspy. She glanced back up into his face, feeling herself flush. His eyes were open now, and he looked down on her with amused embarrassment. The look only made her blush further, and she pressed her face into his neck, hiding it from view. She felt him chuckle against her, the sound vibrating in his throat and making her shiver. His fingers kneaded her shoulder as he shifted beside her, and she moved her head as he sat up, running a hand through his own mussed hair. Anna made a sound of disappointment at his actions, pushing up on her elbows, keeping the quilt up around her chest to preserve her modesty, but he merely grinned at her as he swung around to hover over her, pressing his body deliciously into her covered one.

“What are you doing?” she asked rather breathlessly, lips stretching in a wide grin. She hoped she didn’t look too silly and giddy.

“What does it look like?” he murmured in reply, moving forward to tease at a spot below her ear that she hadn’t even known affected her until this moment. She made a noise of contentment, tilting her head to the side, letting his lips travel over the sensitive area even more effectively.

“I don’t know,” she managed, disentangling her arms from the duvet enough to snake them down his back. God, the feel of him naked was electrifying. Her eyes half-lidded of their own accord, and closed completely when they reached his backside. Her breath shuddered unsteadily from her body when he grunted in her ear to show his appreciation.

“Well, the way I see it,” he said, and she was delighted to hear how rough his voice was, proof that she was affecting him as much as he was affecting her, “you’ve had plenty of time to scrutinise my body. But you…you’ve hidden yourself under this very pointless cover again. I am attempting to seduce you out of it, Mrs. Bates, so that I may be rewarded with the same privilege.”

She shrieked with laughter as his hands began to tug at the sheets covering her body. His lips were still drifting over her features, and she turned her face to kiss him properly, even as she fought spiritedly to keep the sheets in place.

“Give them here, woman,” he growled impishly against her skin.

“No!” she giggled, holding onto them for dear life, revelling in the light-hearted atmosphere. Her arms crossed themselves with some difficulty over her chest, attempting to keep him at bay as much as possible. It wasn’t that she minded him seeing her naked—far from it. But there was something just as exciting about playful tussling, the accidental brush of his hands against her body, his own chuckles filling the air.

The wrestling match continued for several minutes, with neither side willing to give in. If Mr. Carson could bear witness to such a sight, Anna thought vaguely, then he would surely have to change his opinion on the both of them. They were acting like two children, and it felt wonderful.

And then John’s hands accidently brushed against Anna’s ribs. She gave a shrill yelp at the contact. A slow, triumphant smirk began to unfurl across his features.

“Well, what have we here?” he said, his voice a low rumble. She shuddered in anticipation at the sound of it. “Have I discovered another ticklish spot, Mrs. Bates?”

She groaned at the sound of her married name rolling so deliciously from his tongue, in that burr she loved so much. Frantically shaking her head to deny his question, she tried to pull the covers up further, grinning hard.

“Are you sure?” John’s voice was almost sing-song as he brushed his hands deliberately over her.

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling again, attempting to twist away from him.

“I think I have,” he said, and then he was on her properly, his hands seemingly everywhere as she squealed with delight, tickling her mercilessly until she was gasping and pleading surrender under his touch.

His victory was in sight and, with a final flourishing tug, he succeeded in yanking the duvet away from her. Quickly, with the agility of a much younger and more capable man, he twisted his body so that he wasn’t impeding its removal, pushing the whole lot from the bed to land on the floor amid their clothes, a sorry mess.

The chill of the morning air was on Anna’s body in a moment, making it respond indignantly—a sight that she could tell was bringing her husband a lot of enjoyment.

“You cheated,” she accused with a pout, crossing her arms over her chest as punishment.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he recited, dropping a kiss onto her mouth.

She rolled her eyes in affectionate exasperation, and gave no resistance when he gently unfolded her arms from her chest so that he could size her up properly. His gaze was hungry, worshipful. She made do with staring at the little cut that she’d just noticed on his jawline near his ear, obviously made when he’d shaved his stubble yesterday. She wanted to fit her mouth to it.

“Perfect,” John declared when he’d had his fill of drinking her in, running his hands down the length of her body. “Utterly perfect.”

She had to admit, even though she was still rather shy about the completely unabashed way that her husband liked to scrutinise her body, there was certainly something exciting about it. Indeed, she could not stop _herself_ from appreciating her husband’s body. There was something terribly erotic about seeing that dark chest hair and those broad, pale shoulders and every other part of him, knowing that no one else in the whole world would ever be privy to the same sights that she was. Oh, it was easy enough to imagine, she knew. She herself had spent countless hours working herself up into such a state simply lying in the darkness when sleep wouldn’t come, conjuring up the images of him removing his clothes, taking her to bed. But nothing could ever replace truly _knowing_: the precise covering of hair on his chest; the way he felt pressed against her; the exact weight and feel of him hot between her legs. It was such a heady combination, and it was _her_ secret to know. When their eyes met across the room, only she would know what he was thinking, recalling. When his hand touched hers, only she would understand just what those hands could do to her body. If he kissed her chastely on the cheek, no one else in the room could comprehend what those lips were like when they were fuelled by ardour and desire. No, there were secrets that only a married woman could know. And Anna liked that. She liked that very much. She was tired of sharing her husband with other people. She liked having him completely to herself.

Almost as though he was reading her thoughts, John shifted so that he could tease at her chest. Anna did nothing to stifle her whimper of pleasure, pushing his head more firmly against her breast as he tasted her skin. Oh yes, this was perfection.

“There’s no wonder Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley never left the bedroom much on their honeymoon.” The words sprang from her mouth unbidden, escaping in a sigh of contentment as she shifted beneath him, pushing her body against his in a way that she had learned that he liked.

John raised his head, arching an amused eyebrow. “You mean when they were _getting used to each other_?”

She knew she looked embarrassed at his teasing, which even she had to admit was strange, given that she was lying tangled under him completely nude. Still, he seemed to find it endearing, judging by the soft look he gave her.

“Mr. Bates!” she said, giggling slightly and lowering her eyes from his face. She wagered that she was sporting the exact same expression that she had done on the day when she’d made that comment to him the first time, and he grinned broadly at her.

“Because we know all about that now, don’t we?” he continued in a low voice, nuzzling against her jawline. “We know a _lot_ about it.”

“You’re embarrassing me, you know,” she said, hiding her head against his neck.

“You’re the one who brought it up in the first place,” he pointed out. “But you shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s all perfectly natural on a honeymoon.”

“Yes, but they didn’t have to wait two years for theirs,” Anna responded cheekily. “I doubt that they had much time to be embarrassed over anything.”

“Oh, I’m sure they both felt rather awkward initially,” he commented lightly. “There’s a lot to get used to, whether you’re new newlyweds or rather _old_ newlyweds.”

“I suppose,” she conceded.

“I mean,” he persisted, caressing her outer thigh, “they’d have to get used to sleeping next to each other, for starters.”

Anna sighed happily. “Well, that’s not very difficult to adjust to.” At least, she hadn’t found it difficult. In fact, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to curl up around him on their first night here at the seaside.

“And then there are all the other things, of course.”

Her grin was both self-conscious and mischievous. “That isn’t so bad once you grow accustomed to it.”

“You make it sound like a chore,” he snorted. “Is it really that bad for you?” Now his fingers had edged closer to her most intimate area. She shivered and tried to focus.

“I suppose not,” she said nonchalantly. “If you have an adept husband, that is.”

The look on his face was priceless, and she smirked as she leant up to kiss him.

“So,” he said with a huff, “are you trying to say that my…performance has been below the standards you seek?”

Her hands sifted through his hair languidly. Her breath left her body in a satisfied sigh as she recalled the way that they had spent their week’s honeymoon: his hands playing masterfully over her body, making her cry out unheeded; the feel of his mouth on every single inch of her skin; the sensations he skilfully built up inside her as he joined their bodies together; the burning newness of it all, a sensation of utter gratification.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” she admitted then, digging her fingernails into the skin of his sides.

“Good,” he growled good-naturedly. “Although I am more than capable of proving my worth to you, if it should come down to that.”

“I suppose it would be rude of me to turn down such an offer,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral, even as her heart began to thump with anticipation.

He grinned at her, lowering his lips to the shell of her ear, bringing it lightly into his mouth and making her quiver as his tongue slid tantalisingly over the skin. She approved of this very much. The business of getting to know each other was very revealing indeed. It had taught her all sorts of things that she hadn’t even known about herself until now.

Like the fact that she very much enjoyed it when her husband gave special attention to the hollow of her throat. Or the fact that she had a very vivid fascination with the thick, dark hair on his chest. And she certainly had no complaints about the way that he enjoyed drifting his lips over every inch of her body.

There was no wonder indeed that Lady Mary Crawley—mature, classy, rather cold and calculating Lady Mary—had been reduced to a blushing, giggling mess when Anna had made a few implicit comments to her. Men were fascinating creatures, and their ability to make women feel such things was staggering. Anna was glad that she had finally had the chance to sample such pleasures for herself.

John’s thumb was rubbing a gentle path over one of her nipples. She could feel it responding to his touch.

“I can’t get enough of you, you know,” he mumbled in her ear, leaving her earlobe alone long enough to transfer his attention to her jawline. “My God, Anna, what are you doing to me?”

She wanted to answer, but there was no possible way for her to compose a coherent sentence. He seemed to know what her wanton groan meant, however, for he buried his head in the hair flowing over the pillow and aligned his body with hers. He liked to do that, too, she’d discovered. In fact, his whole fascination with her hair was as arousing to her as it clearly was to him; the feel of his fingers shaking the locks loose, running through them heatedly, only made her body throb.

“You’re wonderful, Anna,” she heard him murmuring. “Truly wonderful. My God, I have to touch you.”

“Yes, my love,” she crooned, turning her head with difficulty so that she could kiss his ear. She was certainly not going to object to that. In fact, she was feeling so utterly stimulated that it was a surprise that she hadn’t taken matters into her own hands herself.

And it wouldn’t take very much if she chose to do just that: he had proven himself to be very weak when it came down to what she wanted. A little teasing here, a little provoking there, and he was usually lost. She tingled at the thought of what he could do to her this time. They had made love as many times as they possibly could over this last week—making up for lost time, as John had so baldly put it—and the things he had introduced her to had been eye-opening. His experience excited her. He had so much to teach, and she was more than eager to learn.

His mouth was over her breasts again. He seemed to have a particular penchant for those. She hummed in delight, beginning to rock her hips against him. His groan vibrated against her breast, and he began to worship her with more vigour than ever. She threw her head back and sighed, letting her fingers travel over his shoulder blades, raking her fingers lethargically over the skin. He trembled, raising his head.

“Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes would be utterly appalled to know that they have such a naughty girl under their jurisdiction,” he murmured, unable to resist kissing her chin. “If they had the faintest idea of the things that you’re capable of…how your lovely image of decorum and respectability is simply a façade…”

“You know Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes are going to want to know every little detail about the places we’ve visited,” Anna said musingly at the mention of the butler and the housekeeper, although she couldn’t help but shudder with excitement at his words. Yes, if Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes ever had the slightest inkling of the shameless creature that her husband unleashed within her…

“Well, perhaps they’ll be more interested in hearing about the number of freckles you’ve got on your body, or the lovely little ticklish spot you have behind your knee,” he replied with a rather roguish smirk.

She smacked his shoulder playfully, cheeks glowing.

“Be quiet, Mr. Bates,” she said. “We are _not_ telling Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes about those sorts of things. They’d be mortified!”

“Well, what do you suggest?” he asked teasingly, dropping a kiss into her hair.

“I’m sure we can invent some almost-truths.”

“So lie, you mean?” He sounded more amused than ever at her attempt to soften the meaning of her words. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that will work, my darling.”

“And why not?” she asked, suddenly very intrigued by his own nipples.

His hands wound into her hair, apparently enchanted by the way that the light from the windows was hitting it. “Well, Mr. Carson told me before we left that he’s been here many times before. So I think it’s safe to say that he’ll know when we’re wildly inventing details.”

She groaned aloud. “Oh, wonderful. Now what?”

He moved his head towards her, pressing his mouth to hers, clearly unable to leave her alone for a second longer. She felt his lips curve into a wicked smile against her as he slid them away to tease at her neck again. “Like I said, the truth can never hurt.” He elaborated no more than that.

“Mr. Bates?” she prompted, even as she pushed against him.

With a dramatic huff, he pulled away from her. His eyes were twinkling. “I’m trying to be seductive here. Must you always ruin the moment?”

“I may not know much about the world,” she told him coquettishly, “but I am a woman. That means I have more than one thing on my mind at any given time.”

His laugh was loud and unrepentant. “I should be very insulted by that.”

“Poor you,” she tried to say indifferently, though her grin gave her away. “Now, please stop your maddening habit of talking in riddles.”

“I was only going to say that telling the truth is probably the only way we can go,” he shrugged, grinning wryly. “I mean, isn’t it better to tell them that we were far too busy to step outside the room than to make up all manner of incorrect facts?”

Anna smacked him again, giggling loudly. “Do you _want_ to give Mr. Carson a heart attack or something!?”

“Well, he’d be very naïve if he thought that I’d have need for clothes or sightseeing on our honeymoon.” He began to kiss her again, shifting lower. “Our very _belated_ honeymoon.”

She sighed contentedly, weaving her fingers through his thick hair. “You’re not being much of a gentleman, are you?”

He glanced up at her, chin resting against her stomach. “Do you want me to be a gentleman? After all, a real gentleman does not share a lady’s bed. When I return home, should I take the spare bedroom in the cottage so that you can have a bed all to yourself?”

She rolled her eyes. “You impossible man.”

His smile was altogether too saccharine. “But you still love me.”

“It’s a good thing I do,” she murmured, as he began to lavish kisses against her stomach again. Her breathing began to hitch. Oh, God, he could affect her so easily.

But then he stopped, and she huffed in frustration.

He smirked at that, pushing up on his elbows, crawling back up her body to pin her down. Dear lord, his weight was delicious. She decided then and there, as his heady scent made her senses spin, that there was no greater sensation on earth than the feeling of having a man pressed the length of her body. And not just any man, her husband. Her husband, a _free_ man.

“We should be getting up soon, you know.”

Her eyes, which had drifted closed in order to completely focus on the exquisite feeling of having him pressed against her, snapped open at once.

“What? Why?” she asked.

Now he seemed completely enamoured by her collarbone. She had to admit, it felt incredible to have his teeth grazing against her skin in such a way.

“Because,” he mumbled around his ministrations, “we’re expected at breakfast in less than an hour.”

She raised her eyebrows, even as he made her moan a little. “We’ve not been down to breakfast once this week. I hardly think they’re going to be expecting us. At this stage I think it would cause more of a stir if we _did_ turn up. We’ve scandalised everyone enough by not bothering to the rest of the time. They’d only talk.”

“Well, let’s go out for breakfast instead. We’ll need at least a little something to keep us going while we’re on the train.”

“You’re right,” she purred, arching against him. “We’re certainly going to need _something_ to keep us going. But it’s not food.”

“And speaking of the train,” he continued on as though he hadn’t heard her, though his eyes had darkened at her statement, “it’s scheduled to leave for Downton in just an hour and a half’s time. We really should get up and finish packing to leave.”

“You say that _I_ ruin the moment,” Anna teased. “And here was me thinking that you can be very romantic when you want to be.”

“Well, one of us has to keep practical,” he told her, moving his attention to her bare shoulder.

“I’m sure we can spare ten minutes more,” she replied, closing her eyes to enjoy his ministrations. “In any case, we could just say the train was delayed.”

“Anna,” John’s tone was amused, “Mr. Carson is sending the chauffeur down to the station to pick us up. He’s going to be there when the train pulls into the station exactly on time, and then we’d have some real explaining to do.”

“We could always say that we were held up in traffic and missed the train.”

He sounded more amused than ever. “We’re a ten minute walk away from the station.”

“Fine, John Bates, have it your way. We’ll get up now and be the pictures of decorum for when we leave this little room.” Her voice was long-suffering, but her actions belied her words as she promptly moved back to kiss him.

She successfully managed to distract him for a few minutes with her mouth on his, darting her tongue into his mouth to taste him. When she finally broke away to pant for breath, he moved his lips to her cheeks, caressing the soft skin there lovingly, all thoughts of tearing himself from the bed and from her arms obviously pushed to the back of his mind for a little while longer, at least.

“You’re not making the thought of us leaving any easier, you know,” she commented, ruffling his hair.

“Why not?” he murmured, pulling back enough to stare down into her face.

“Well, look at all this,” she said with a wide sweep of her arm. “Look how we’ve spent the whole week.”

“I must admit, it has been most enjoyable,” he agreed with a rakish smile, dropping his eyes pointedly down her body. Her insides curled pleasantly at that look, but she ignored it for a moment.

“Exactly. We’ve had a whole week away from getting up at the crack of dawn and falling into bed at gone midnight. We’ve had the whole week away from tight schedules and complete chaos.”

“Well, I can’t say I agree entirely with you there,” he said huskily. “I can’t say we’ve had any extra sleep being away from the house.”

“I wonder why?” she said. Her lips found his cheek.

“What did you expect?” he retorted genially. “I’ve had almost two years to have the same dream over and over.” His hands slid down her body, pushing her thighs further apart. “After all, I am a man. I’m afraid my mind only ever takes me in one direction.”

She pushed at his chest as he bent in to kiss her. He hovered above her, looking a little perplexed at her actions.

“Is there something wrong, Anna?” he asked. “Are you perhaps…would you prefer it if we didn’t?”

“For a man who has years of experience behind him, you’re not very adept when it comes to reading what a lady wants, are you?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been with a lady before,” he said with mock innocence, then sobered. “So, what’s wrong?”

She dropped her gaze from his, twisting her hands in the sheets. “I…I actually have a request.”

“That sounds intriguing,” he said. “What sort of request is that?”

There was a pause. He tipped her chin up again so that he could gaze into her eyes.

“Please, Anna,” he said warmly. “You know that you can say whatever you want to me. I’m not exactly in a position to deny you anything right now, am I?”

She had to grin at his wry comment, running her fingers down his cheek, though she was still blushing. Finally, though, she took a deep breath and spoke. “I’d like to…to go on top again this time.”

Evidently whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. She held his gaze, watched it darken.

“My God, I would like that,” he said. “I would like that very much.”

The raw honesty in his voice made her shudder, and their lips met halfway, moving frenziedly against each other, their tongues tangling. Anna didn’t think that she’d ever grow used to the sensations that lying naked with her husband brought.

Slowly, she began to push up against his chest, making him roll from her so that she could sit up and move over him. They had made love like this once before, on their wedding night, and Anna had adored every minute of it. The sensations that it had brought on, how deep John could be taken inside her from such an angle, the obvious pleasure playing out across his face…all of it had heightened Anna’s own pleasure. She’d been shy about asking for a repeat performance—she had heard enough times that many people believed it was wrong for couples to enjoy making love in ways that did not consist of the man lying flat on top of the woman—but John’s reaction to it had been most encouraging. He’d even gone as far as admitting that it was probably his favourite way of making love. And she’d known that she had to experience it again before they left for home.

John settled down in the sheets, stretching out his limbs. Anna moved astride him, bending down to kiss him. His hands came up to caress her hips, and she made a noise of approval. Her own hands moved to his hair again. She would never tire of running her hands through it.

John was grinning like a schoolboy when they parted.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked quizzically, sitting up on his stomach.

“I’m just thinking about how much the fashions have changed in the time I spent in prison,” he said.

Now she was more confused than ever. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Well,” he said, and his voice was a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t know how I’m ever going to get any work done again knowing that your working dress is so much shorter than it was before, and that these beautiful legs are going to be scandalously uncovered.” To emphasise his point, he ran his hands from the back of her knees to her ankles, and she couldn’t help the shiver that bolted through her body.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to,” she replied seriously, though a grin of her own began to curl at the corners of her mouth. “And if all of the young lads around the estate can control themselves at the sight of a woman’s legs, then you can too.”

“Ah, but they’ve not witnessed these exquisite beauties for themselves, have they?” he lamented. “I don’t think any man alive would be able to concentrate on any task again after seeing these.”

She shifted them against him, sliding them sensually against the length of his own legs. She took great satisfaction in seeing him bite his lip at the sensation of their bare skin rubbing together. “Even Thomas?”

“Well, perhaps not him,” he conceded, moving to tuck errant strands of her blonde hair behind her ears, and she smirked at him. Tilting his head back slightly, he meshed his lips gently against hers. She responded at once, sliding her hands into his hair, pressing down on his body. He groaned in the back of his throat. She could feel him pressing hard and hot and heavy against her stomach. She shifted down until she was lying flat against him, his arousal trapped between them. He whimpered and bucked his hips, letting her know what he wanted. She complied at once, sitting back up and adjusting her position, confining him underneath her. Now his arousal was pressed right up against her. Her own breathing grew heavier at the feeling. God, he was so hot, so rigid. Glancing down and taking in the sight of him aligned with her intimately only made her own arousal spiral out of control. John was following her line of vision, seemingly transfixed by the sight of them, almost as joined as two people could possibly be.

Anna chanced a glance at him. Feeling her eyes on him, he also raised his gaze, holding hers when he found it. He reassured her with a smile, pushing himself up with his elbows. Her arms went around his neck at once, and he slid his around her waist, pressing his lips to her collarbone. Her stomach slid erotically against his. Her breasts pressed urgently against his chest. Oh, dear God, she would never be able to innocently think of sitting in his lap again without the image of them like this springing to the forefront of her mind, his arousal jutting up against her. With a groan, she shifted her hips just slightly, felt him slip inside her. His sound of gratitude filled her ears.

They were lost.

\-- --

What was time? What was anything? Anna lost track of the world as she made love with her husband. There was nothing else in the whole universe apart from his breathing, harsh pants that tore through the air, his hands, splayed across the width of her back, his tongue, tasting the hollow between her breasts. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feel of his body against hers, the sound of their moans harmonising, the sensations arrowing through her veins.

Pleasure, such pleasure. White hot. All encompassing. She leaned backwards, settling her hands on his knees. His mouth sought out her breasts. She ground down on him.

Oh, God, she was almost there. She knew she was. And he knew she was too; one of his hands left her back to snake down and rub her low. She cried out, bucked against him.

She lost all sense of direction.

When she regained her senses, she found herself slumped against him. He was still, holding her close, until she looked up with dazed eyes. And then he kissed her softly, flipping her over onto her back. He began to move within her, so slowly, immeasurably slowly.

_Oh, God._

“I love you, Anna,” he said, matching his words to the cadence of his hips.

She tried to echo them, but no sound would come. She couldn’t comprehend anything apart from this.

The movements.

The pleasure.

Him.

She was shuddering beneath him, still so sensitive after her end. He was whispering in her ear, terribly ungentlemanly things that could never be repeated outside the privacy of their room, and it only affected her more.

Nothing else in the world could possibly exist.

\-- --

It was later, much later. That was all Anna could comprehend as she slowly descended from her high. They lay side by side. Anna’s head was tucked up against the side of her husband’s neck, while his arm drew her close to his side. His spare hand was entwined with hers, their fingers stroking soothingly over each other’s. He had surprised her this time, her husband. He had wrangled another climax out of her before even half-reaching his own. Twice he had ceased moving completely, holding himself still inside her, evidently trying to regain his composure—something which she supposed hadn’t been an easy feat when she’d been pawing desperately at him, mewling for him to continue. But he should be very pleased with his performance. She blinked dazedly up at the ceiling. He had completed his job more than satisfactorily.

John moved to press a kiss against her hair, resting his head against her. Anna was far too comfortable to even contemplate moving, though her eyes did drift over to the antique little clock that sat on her side of the bed. A slow, lazy grin spread across her features when she read the time.

“John,” she said, “I do believe we’ve missed our train…”


End file.
